


Six stars, six years

by slof



Series: One hundred ways to say 'I love you' [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, It's 6 AM please, Lowkey gave Bokuto anxiety, M/M, Tags Are Hard, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26338372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slof/pseuds/slof
Summary: Six stars, each for a year Bokuto Koutarou had known Kuroo Tetsurou.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: One hundred ways to say 'I love you' [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921759
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	Six stars, six years

**Author's Note:**

> Twirls hair hey Connie it's 6 AM and I'm too lazy to reread 7k twice so I did one redo beta read I'm sorry <3

The first time that Koutarou showed up at volleyball practice, he expected to stay within his school and peers. He was always the happy, bright aspect to the team, but that didn’t mean in his first-year he was good when it came to interacting with other schools. The wing spiker knew that his teammates would always be nice to him. Considering they were part of a team, they kind of had to be.

“Get on the buses!” A third-year had said while Koutarou was a simple first year.  “We’re heading to the training camp.”

Koutarou sat at the front of the bus, a little bit of anxiousness from him as he rocked back and forth in his seat. He was excited yet nervous at the same time to get through this training camp. At least five other schools would be there, matches would be going on all the time, punishments would be given to the loser teams -- all from what he had heard from his upperclassman. 

“Bokuto,” a voice had said next to him. “Quit rocking the bus.”

“I’m not!” Koutarou said to his fellow first-year. “I’m just a little jumpy,” he mumbled.  Akinori left the conversation in the air, not giving Koutarou another response as he turned his head to stare out of the window. Koutarou sighed, looking over to the last first-year that sat across from them in the front. Haruki had his head tilted back to rest on his seat, eyes closed. 

_ ‘Maybe I should try and relax too.’ _

So he closed his eyes and dozed off.

  
  


Koutarou was shaken awake by Akinori that it was time to get off the bus. He was a bit half-awake, stirring to consciousness as he stood from his seat with a yawn. His classmate had already grabbed down his bag and handed it to him, which Koutarou nodded with a mumbled  _ ‘thanks’ _ before making his way off with everyone else. 

They followed the third-years off of the bus, all of them had their bags in their hands, some had sleeping essentials they carried like blankets or pillows. Most of them were half-awake as well, the ride to where the training camp was held fairly far away from the Fukurodani academy, but they had enough energy to drag themselves to the building they were sleeping at. 

Another school showed up near the time they did, so they waited for them to file off the bus to merge the walkthrough of where they’d be staying instead of doing it multiple times for each school in order to save some time. Koutarou stayed near the back of people from his school, hugging his weighted blanket tightly in both hands as he carefully watched the other school come off the bus.

They wore full red outfits, red sweats with red jackets with some white lettering on the side that Koutarou couldn’t read from the distance they were at. Koutarou leaned his head on his blanket, eyes keeping locked on the future competition. Most of the team members that got off seemed boring, apart from the first three that had walked off of the bus.

One was very short, light hair, a backpack strapped on his back with an annoyed, tired expression on his face. The other one was quite the opposite. He seemed more cheery, taller, a buzzcut, a smile on his face with only a little hint of tiredness to him. The last one was the tallest of the three, basically towering over the first one. His hair was messy, really messy, but Koutarou assumed that was possibly due to the fact that he might have slept on the bus. His hair was jet black, some stood up and some hung over one of his eyes. He had a cocky grin on his face yet you could still tell he was somewhat tired.

Fukurodani followed first, the other unnamed school walking close behind. They started to make their way up the steps of the building when Koutarou lost his footing, his chin had been sitting on top of the heavy blanket.

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling and keeping him to his feet.

“Watch your step,” they said. Koutarou paused and turned around for a quick moment to meet eyes with the person he would say (very dramatically) ‘saved his life’. The one with crazy bedhead and a smirk on his face.

Koutarou nodded. “Thanks,” he said, and he turned to continue to follow the others in the building.

  
  


The next morning when the mini, one-set practice matches began, Koutarou had soon learned that his savior in his missing step was from the other school known as  Nekoma . He was a first-year as well, name Kuroo Tetsurou, middle blocker, and he had a pretty funny rivalry with one of the other people in his grade, Yaku Morisuke, the backup libero for the team. The last one had been in their grade as well, Nobuyuki Kai, though he was a player of few words.

He also learned that the bedhead for Tetsurou seemed completely on purpose. It hadn’t been any different than it had been the night before, maybe a bit more ‘put together’, but to Koutarou (and probably other people if you asked them), it was still a mess.

Tetsurou seemed pretty good at what he did, analytical in his actions especially when it came to blocking Koutarou’s spikes. He didn’t say anything to him though, Koutarou was still coming out of the shell of being able to walk up to anyone he saw with a smile on his face. Instead, he turned back to Akinori and shared a high five after they received their next point against them.

  
  


There was a cookout on the last day in their first-year, Koutarou remembered it pretty well only because of what happened (maybe the other reason was that he thought the food was absolutely amazing). He was tired for once, sitting in the grass as he ate the meat off his plate. 

“Clumsy.” 

Koutarou looked up. “That’s not my name.”

“I know,” Tetsurou said as he sat down in the grass next to Koutarou. “Why are you sitting here alone?”

“Thinking.”

“About?”

“Nationals.”

“Nationals,” Tetsurou repeated back to him. “You guys are gonna try hard, huh?”

“Are you not?”

“Of course, but obviously we’re going to squash you like a bug so you shouldn’t have to worry about having to waste  _ too _ much gas on a bus driving back and forth.”

“Oh, you asshole,” Koutarou said, and he elbowed Tetsurou in the side. He had shaken the other’s plate, food threatening to spill into the dirt.

“Hey, watch out!”

“ _ You _ watch out.” They glared at each other for a few minutes before laughing. 

It didn’t take long for them to start talking about other things, how they got into volleyball, who had the better tests scores (everything was always a competition with them), who was better at blocking or spiking -- that one was obvious but the other still claimed they were better than the other even if they weren’t.

Koutarou was left a little sad that he didn’t get to exchange a last goodbye with Tetsurou before he left on the bus after the last day of the training camps but something told him that he’d see him next year or even at Nationals.

  
  


The owl had been right too, he saw Nekoma at Nationals, though neither Nekoma nor Fukurodani won as they said they would, both of them heading home in tears, regret, and even disappointment.

As Koutarou was making his way home that night, he slipped his phone back in his pocket. He had just gotten off his phone with his mother after having told her Nationals was a bust, that they lost, and he was on his way home. She told him she was proud of him either way and there was always the next two years.

Koutarou chuckled at that as he looked to the sky. It was blank; not a single star in the sky that night. The moon was the only thing that looked over him.

* * *

Second-year was different for Koutarou. Something about being someone’s senpai and actually being called it gave Koutarou a deeper strike of confidence like nothing had before. Especially the single lowerclassman on his team, one Akaashi Keiji, a setter with beautiful plays that guided Koutarou’s shots to be nearly perfect -- he wasn’t perfect, but he was working to it. Koutarou claimed he’d be the ace soon enough. 

This time, Koutarou looked forward to the training camp. They left early in the morning instead of late at night so Koutarou was excited in his seat, basically sitting on the edge of it as the bus drove to the building it was being held. It was much closer than it had been last year, but that didn’t mean the bus ride felt like hours to the wing spiker.

He was the first off of the bus (Koutarou tended to keep to the seats near the front) and grabbed his things -- his bag off the top of the bag rack above the seat, the weighted blanket he’d use at night that was useless for the small bus ride.

The owl hopped off the bus, Akinori, Haruki, Keiji, and the remaining third-years following along with him. The volleyball advisor for the school they arrived at walked up to them and welcomed them to the school. They gave polite bows before following her down the path to the building they’d drop their things off at, change, and head to the gyms.

Koutarou looked down at his feet when he reached the steps. He carefully headed up them, this time that Tetsurou wasn’t anywhere around to help him up the steps, and followed the lady the rest of the way.

  
  


When he headed into the gym after getting ready  _ (“Bokuto, please calm down. They can’t start the practice match without everyone here anyhow,” his lowerclassman had told him) _ , Koutarou spotted the familiar school jerseys. The full red with white wording on the side of the joggers (Koutarou had learned last year that it said ' Nekoma' ). 

He wanted to go against them again. They were fun. A match against a completely defensive team with cat-like reflexes? Koutarou thought the ' Neko' in ' Nekoma' was a lucky touch.

  
  


Koutarou jumped to get to the cart of volleyballs first, excited with a kick in his step as he made his way over. He was almost there too, Keiji had said something behind him, but he ignored it and continued to make his way over.

Suddenly, a tug grabbed him at the collar of this shirt and pulled him. Koutarou felt himself being choked a bit from the random pull, and he stepped back, catching himself with the heels of his feet, his shoes squeaking on the gym floor.

“Watch your step,” a voice behind him said, again. Koutarou turned to look, the face of the  Nekoma’s second-year middle blocker had, once again, saved him because when Koutarou turned to look in front of him, there was a volleyball he would have sure tripped on had he kept on walking.

“Thanks, again,” Koutarou said. 

“You never look where you’re going, do you?” He asked.

“No, not usually.”

The middle blocker laughed. “Proper introductions, I believe it’s time,” he said as he officially let go of Koutarou. The owl turned to face him as he held out a hand. “Kuroo Tetsurou, second-year at  Nekoma .”

“Bokuto Koutarou, second-year at Fukurodani.”

“Well,  _ second-year at Fukurodani _ , it’s the second time I’ve saved you,” Tetsurou spoke as he crossed his arms. “What does that earn me?”

“I don’t know,” Koutarou said, “I might kick your ass at volleyball.”

“You can try.”

“I won’t just ‘try’,” Koutarou said, full of confidence. “I’m going to do.”

“You do that.”

“I will.”

“You will.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

Koutarou frowned, and he turned around to pick up the volleyball. “I am definitely going to.”

The matches Fukurodani had against  Nekoma were always the funniest ones. The rivalry across the net just between the wing spiker and middle blocker was already enjoyable for both teams, and now there was even an additional one against the first-year setters. The score between them was always a battle, the games usually heading well over twenty-five, sometimes into the low forties until one of them finally pulled out with a win.

The wing spiker stayed back and watched Tetsurou after he had been pulled out, swapped out with a third-year. Koutarou wasn’t pulled out often, only when the third-year wanted to go in and the coach thought Koutarou could use a break did he get taken out of the game. The owl didn’t think he did, but he was pulled out regardless of his complaints. He couldn’t say anything about it though, he wasn’t a third-year, he wasn’t in charge, he just had to listen.

So Koutarou stood off on the sideline and watched Tetsurou, watched the way he lifted his arms and blocked the spike from the freshly-put in third year that replaced Koutarou. 

_ ‘That should’ve been me,’ _ Koutarou thought as he gripped onto the cold water bottle. He wanted to be the one to slam the ball past Tetsurou -- he was a little glad that the third-year's spike didn’t past Tetsurou, he wanted to be the one to do that.

Koutarou thought his form was perfect, that was coming from someone who was a wing spiker so maybe his word on blocking should be left to the middle blocking professionals, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find Tetsurou’s cat-like reflexes to be mesmerizing to watch.

When Koutarou was put back in the match, the first thing he asked Keiji to do was give him a set where Tetsurou would be the one to block. It was at match point, Koutarou remembered it well. 

Keiji gave him the set he asked for, and Koutarou did the approach so well that at that moment, it had matched that of a star player ace. He jumped to slam the ball, his eyes locking with Tetsurou’s on the other side of the net, and slammed it down, the impact of the volleyball punching the wooden floor rang through the gym.

Koutarou landed on his feet and grinned widely at the cat who cursed under his breath on the other side of the net.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Koutarou called out, and he moved to get the high fives from his teammates. 

When Koutarou watched Tetsurou and his team head outside to deal their penalty against their loss to the owls, he couldn’t help but have a smug expression on his face.

  
  


Leaving that year, Koutarou left a little happier than he had come there because right before he was getting on the bus,  Nekoma’s bedhead had run up to him.

“Bokuto,” Tetsurou called out, running up to him. He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give me it, you stupid owl.” Koutarou sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and handing it to Tetsurou. 

“Little rude.”

“Well, you wouldn’t give it to me,” Tetsurou said with a shrug as he clicked on Koutarou’s phone.

“What are you doing?”

“One second.” Tetsurou stuck his tongue out as he tapped around on Koutarou’s screen. After a second (which was more like ten), he grinned at his work and handed Koutarou back his phone. “There,” he said. Koutarou took it back and squinted at the screen.

“ _ ‘Sexy Kuroo Tetsurou’ _ ,” Koutarou read with a frown. “I don’t know anyone like that.”

“Oh, you’re an asshole.”

“I know a ‘Kuroo Tetsurou’ but no ‘Sexy Kuroo Tetsurou’.”

“Just get on the bus and leave. I’m done with this conversation.”

  
  


During the tournaments, Koutarou took the initiative to text Tetsurou. He put his name in his phone, he must’ve wanted him to text him. They talked about where they were on the rankings, where they were going next, who they were going against next, and even when they weren’t talking about volleyball, they talked about other things. 

If you ever asked Koutarou in his first year if he thought he’d have a friend from another school, he would’ve told you no, that his friends from his school were enough, that they were his rivals. Though there was something about the friendly rivalry that Koutarou loved, and he would never regret almost falling just to have Tetsurou catch him two times in a row in the last years.

  
  


On the ride home from the last game Koutarou had in his second-year, he looked up at the sky. A single star next to the moon.

* * *

Koutarou’s last year was, he would say, one of the best. He was finally coined the ace and captain of the team, he had a great setter that knew all his weak and strong points, the rest of his team were all highly skilled and smart. Koutarou was confident in this year. They had even gained a new competition when  Nekoma added another school to the training camps. 

This time, Koutarou and Tetsurou -- finally the two had become the team captains for their schools -- were the ones to stand while the buses approached and welcomed the schools coming for the training camp. Tetsurou jammed his side into Koutarou’s as a bus pulled up, a light shove to slightly knock him off of his feet.

“Asshole,” Koutarou mumbled, pushing him back. Tetsurou laughed, and he sounded like an idiot, but for some reason, it got Koutarou to smile.

They helped the old schools find their way around the grounds, some of the third-years from the schools were able to tell Koutarou and Tetsurou they had remembered where they had to go from their practice match in their first-year.

The new school showed up, one Karasuno High, and Tetsurou seemed to be pretty laid back with them. As Koutarou watched him throughout the years, Tetsurou grew more outgoing, but it wasn’t like he had needed to anyway. Tetsurou was always that type to be friendly toward anyone.

Hell, deep down, Tetsurou had been the first to leave a crack in the shell that Koutarou first had back two years ago.

  
  


This year, Koutarou worked more overtime than he had before, and he worked with Tetsurou along with Keiji, a few other  Nekoma members, and a few ones from Karasuno. He had fun going against them, staying up past the sun going down, the moon was out what had felt like ages ago. The gym door was left open for a chilling breeze as Tetsurou and Koutarou actually worked on a team together through the matches.

They worked until one of the Fukurodani managers came to yell at them to head to sleep, everyone was pretty much scared of Yukie so they listened.

  
  


Koutarou and Tetsurou were slow as they walked back to the building to take the showers they had well needed. To add on to how late at night it was (probably around eleven-thirty, and Koutarou swore that if he didn’t get back soon, he would be sure to be a little off tomorrow), Tetsurou just had to grab Koutarou by the sleeve.

“Bokuto,” he said, “come on.”

“What?”

“Just follow me, idiot.” He looked back at him with a grin. _“Watch your step.”_ Koutarou swatted him on the shoulder and laughed, but he followed anyway, moving his hands to his short pockets with a fake huff of annoyance. His jacket was left behind in the gym, unlike Tetsurou who had slipped his own on and zipped it all the way.

Tetsurou walked, bringing Koutarou to a grassy area. In the center was a bricked circle, inside was a small fountain, the water close to the top of the rock but just enough. Fish swam around in it, dodging around lily pads or hiding underneath them. The light from the moon cast a streak of light in the water, the fish would move away from the reflection of it, unsure if it was safe to go near or not.

Nekoma’s middle blocker took a seat, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket as he tilted his head back to look up at the sky. A few stars aligned in the night, but it was very few. Few enough that Koutarou could count them all on one hand. He moved to take a seat next to Tetsurou, moving his legs out in front of him as he leaned forward and touched his toes for a small stretch.

“You really became the ace like you said you would?” Tetsurou asked with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Koutarou said. “Of course, I did.”

“So who do you think is gonna win Nationals this year?”

Koutarou shrugged. “Me, probably.”

“You’re still on about that?” Tetsurou laughed. “You’re weak.”

“Okay, Mr. ‘Just A Middle Blocker’ and ‘Not The Ace of  Nekoma ’.”

Tetsurou frowned. “Doesn’t mean I’m not good for my team.”

“Never said you weren’t,” Koutarou said as he looked over at him. “I don’t think  Nekoma would be  Nekoma without you.” Tetsurou’s face softened.  If Koutarou was looking right at him, he couldn’t see it, but when the owl stole a glance at the glare in the water, the moon’s light showed a pink tint to the cat’s face. 

“Shut up,” Tetsurou said, and he looked away, his head tilting to look back at the sky dotted with two stars. “Get ready for a few matches at Nationals.”

“ _You_ get ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“I’m ready too.” Tetsurou looked over at Koutarou, and he cracked a smile, that stupid grin that always made Koutarou return one back. 

He looked down to Tetsurou’s hand, it had moved and sat on the brick next to them to help hold him up as he leaned back as if he was going to fall back into the water. Koutarou looked back at the sky, the two stars shining brightly.

Koutarou felt something wrap around his pinky, and he looked down at his hand. Tetsurou’s pinky fit snugly around his, perfectly fit like a button to a t-shirt, a lid to a bottle, a cap to a pen.

He let it and looked back to the night sky, watching as he swore a second star was slowly coming into view.

* * *

After Koutarou had graduated, he took a ‘gap year’. It wasn’t the normal gap year that everyone else had, Koutarou had no intentions of heading to college after the year was over with. Instead, he trained fitness-wise, confident he was going to be on a professional team. 

It gave him more time to hang out with his friends, though that didn’t mean they always had time for him. Akinori and Haruki had their own things they had to do such as college work. Keiji was finishing his last year of school and was far too busy being the captain  _ and _ setter of the team.

Though he could always trust one person who’d hang out with him. 

  
  


Tetsurou and Koutarou lazily sat on Koutarou’s couch in the small apartment he had. They each took a side with a back to their own armrest, feet kicking each other ever now and then. The two of them didn’t really talk, it was more of the feeling of company and knowing the other person that was there that made them like hanging out like this. A show played on the TV yet it was only a distant sound as they both focused on their own things.

The college student had a textbook on his lap, a pencil twirled between his fingers with a concentrated expression as he worked on his assignment. Koutarou had his phone in his hand, going through his email of some messages he had received as he tried to search for a team that would take him in for tryouts.

“How early should I show up at practice?”

Tetsurou raised an eyebrow. “You? Show up early to something?” He scoffed and turned a page in his textbook. “You’re kidding, right?”  Koutarou kicked him in the side, and the cat laughed, throwing his head back a little. It was stupid -- still stupid like it had been back in high school. Some things never changed, and some things Koutarou didn’t want to change.

Tetsurou’s laugh was one of them.

“I’m kidding,” Tetsurou said. “Kind of,” he added on but spoke too quickly for Koutarou to bounce back with something. “You don’t need to show up early to a practice to give a good image to them, Bokuto.” He scooted down further on the couch, moving his knees up more. If Koutarou was guessing, he’d say he did it purposely to hide his face. “You’re going to make any team you try out for.”

“Aw,” Koutarou said as he dropped his phone on the couch and sat up. He crawled over to Tetsurou, pushing the other’s textbook down. “Just say it," he teased.

“Say what? Get off of me,” Tetsurou muttered.

“Say you love me.”

“You’re cheap.” 

“Then you like cheap--” Koutarou’s hand slipped, and he almost bashed his chin into Tetsurou’s knee but the old middle blocker bunted his shoulder to stop him from falling.

_ “Watch your step.” _

The two stared at each other for a bit until they couldn’t hold it in anymore, both of them bursting into laugher. It took a bit for them to calm down, but they did soon enough. 

Two things changed.

The air between them felt lighter, softer, something that read of understanding but Koutarou couldn’t exactly pinpoint it.

Their position, physically. Tetsurou stayed the same, his feet up pulled up making his legs slant with his textbook sat in his lap, though now Koutarou leaned against his legs using him to lay on as he continued his email scroll.

  
  


Time passed, they could hang out like that for hours, and Koutarou looked up from his phone, the battery drained. He looked over to Tetsurou, the other was passed out with an arm dangling off of the couch, a pen had fallen on the ground below it. The weighted blanket sat on the back of the couch, and Koutarou pulled it over himself as he looked out at the sliding door.

The curtain was drawn open, the night sky clearly visible. Three stars in the sky with the addition of the bright moon. Koutarou sighed happily as he rested his head back down against Tetsurou, falling into a deep sleep with the comfort of his friend and the weight of the blanket.

* * *

Koutarou wasn’t all for academics, so it wasn’t all that surprising when he didn’t go to college and instead headed straight for the professionals. He loved volleyball, he strived to be a star of the match, he wanted to be on the billboard and headlines for the top, well-known teams. Koutarou wanted the fame, and the year that he joined the MSBY Black Jackals gave him that.

The first year he had with the professional team was something that Koutarou had never felt before. There was a rush to the game he had never experienced, a feeling throughout him as he used everything in his power to pass through a block. The older people on his team slapped his back and complimented him, it felt good. Everything about it felt so satisfying, everything he worked towards.

His teammates wanted to learn more about Koutarou now that he was a member of the team, and the owl smiled when the captain had requested him to invite any old or new friends to a party that was held after Koutarou’s last match of that year. Of course, Koutarou called up the people he graduated the same year with (Keiji was still in school so he wasn’t really an option). 

Akinori had been busy with school work, he declined.  Haruki had been touring around for his work, he declined as well.

Koutarou tried asking from other schools. 

Karasuno members. Koushi was busy with grading papers, Daichi was working a late-night shift near a frat house to police any drunk teens, Asahi was working on a big project and preferred to not be bothered.

Nekoma members. Morisuke and Nobuyuki, the two of them had declined for the same reason considering a busy load of college work. 

The only person who dropped what they were doing for Koutarou was Tetsurou.

  
  


Tetsurou had shown up at the party address in jeans and a sweater, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He still had that stupid hairstyle yet somehow, he made it look slightly more put together than he had back in high school. 

Shuugo, the MSBY Black Jackals captain, opened the door to Tetsurou. He looked him up and down with a small rise of his eyebrow before opening the door open more and stepping to the side. Koutarou looked over from the couch he sat at, lifting his beer he held in his hand with a smile on his face.

“Kuroo!” He called out as he stood up from his seat. Koutarou made his way over, slinging an arm around the old friend’s shoulder. He leaned close to him and laughed. “I’m glad you came.”

Tetsurou smiled. “Of course.”

  
  


They headed out on the balcony together alone, Koutarou sliding open the door and stepping through. 

_ “Watch your step,” _ Tetsurou mumbled under his breath, and Koutarou cast him a glare over his shoulder. The cat just chuckled under his breath, he’d never let that go.

  
  


They were a little tipsy, standing together on the balcony of the apartment complex the party was in. The sliding door was shut behind them, the music coming from inside was faint and muffled behind the glass. On the other side, the curtains had been closed, nothing more than a stream of light from inside peering out and, again, the light from the moon.

As they leaned on the railing, both of them holding a nearly empty can of liquor which they had lost track just how much they had, they stood in silence. 

“How long has it been?”

“Huh?”

“Since we met,” Tetsurou clarified. “How long has it been since we met?”

Koutarou looked up in thought, giving a soft hum as he lifted the can to his lips, spilling the liquid back and feeling it already starting to kick in as it added to how drunk he already was. He lowered the can, shaking it around to nothing but air. Koutarou let out a sigh and set it off to the side.

“Well, our three high school years we knew each other,” Koutarou began to say, “then I took a year to train, and here we are.”

“This is our fifth year,” Tetsurou muttered as he chugged the rest of his drink.

Koutarou nodded. “This is our fifth year,” he repeated quietly.

“Can I admit something to you?”

“Should we be admitting things while we’re both drunk?”

“We’re not drunk,” Tetsurou said as he stood up straight. “We’re tipsy if anything.”

“Whatever,” Koutarou said with a chuckle. “Tell me.”

“Well, I don’t actually know how to say it.”

“Your loss,” Koutarou said while leaning back in the railing, a smile on his face. If he hadn’t been tipsy, he wouldn’t have been so smug about it. He would’ve probably pestered Tetsurou for a little longer to spit it out and the other would tell him  _ ‘Nevermind, I can’t figure out how to say it anyway. It’s a waste and unimportant,’  _ and after a little more bothering from Koutarou, he’d eventually move on. They’d move on and the conversation would be distant and forgotten.

Though considering Tetsurou was also a little tipsy, he seemed a bit out of his style than usual. He reached over, grabbing Koutarou by the strings of his sweater. Tetsurou got his attention from that, Koutarou stood up straighter and looked over at him. 

Then Tetsurou leaned forward and put his lips to his.

It was sweet, but it wasn’t sweet in the way Koutarou would hope a first kiss would be -- being too focused on volleyball and Koutarou had never known anyone romantically. The taste of beer and liquor was left on Tetsurou’s lips and it wiped off to Koutarou. It was sticky, too, and Koutarou didn’t know that alcohol could be so sticky.

Something about tasting it off another person’s lips? 

Koutarou didn’t know that alcohol could taste so good. 

Tetsurou pulled away, only leaving a short gap between them as he peeled his eyes open and stared at Koutarou, staring into those golden eyes. His breath shuddered slightly, and he pulled away, clear hesitation but he seemed too drunk to try and hide it. 

He bit his lip as he turned away. “I should head home anyway. I might have ditched some college work for this.” He headed to the sliding door, pulling it open before one last glance back to Koutarou. “See you later.”

Koutarou was speechless, it wasn’t as if there was anyone around him currently that would listen to him anyway. It was Koutarou alone on the balcony, and he looked to the night sky once again. 

Four stars were out that night with just Koutarou and t he moon.

* * *

Koutarou’s second year on the MSBY Black Jackals was different. A new setter joined them, someone just a year younger than Koutarou. The two got along well, quickly becoming friends as they both shared a close personality.

“Bo, ya comin’?” The setter had asked him after practice. Miya Atsumu, a former graduate from a school called Inarizaki High. He pulled the MSBY jacket over his shoulders, giving the slides of it a small tug as he looked over to the owl. “Yer gonna make us miss the train.”

“I’m coming, ‘Tsum,” Koutarou said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. They were in Koutarou’s apartment, he was gathering the last of his things before he and Atsumu were going to head to the trains. A match was a few hours away, and if they missed the train, they’d be sure to be in trouble (even though the match was the next day, Shuugo probably just wanted them to all ride together). It wasn’t as if they were running out of time, Atsumu was just a ‘be thirty minutes early’ type of guy.

Before they were able to leave, Atsumu pointed to a picture on the wall near the front door.

“What’s up with his hair?” He asked.

“Whose?” Koutarou turned his head and looked to the person in the photo Atsumu pointed to. The tall, black-haired, red tracksuit-wearing cat hung on Koutarou’s shoulders in the picture, a fist in his hair to ruffle and mess it up. It had been taken their third year, the year the lost Nationals. “Oh, Kuroo,” Koutarou mumbled. Something rose in his chest, thinking back to the years he played Tetsurou on the other side of the net. “Bedhead.”

“I see that,” Atsumu muttered. “Can’t believe yer friends with that.”

“Because your hair is any better.”

“Why ya gotta say that?” Atsumu reached a hand to his hair and ran his fingers through it. “I like my hair, and ‘t’s fine unlike that mess he calls ‘hair’.” The Accent scoffed and nudged Koutarou with his elbow. “Whateva, not like I care. Come on ‘cause if were later, ‘m tellin’ Meian it was all yer fault.”

  
  


Koutarou sat near the window on the train, head leaned on the window. There was no more anxious rocking in his chair -- he had left behind his weighted blanket. Koutarou trained himself to be calmer, though he still felt like he needed something more.

He pulled out his phone, the memory of his old friend being refreshed in his memory thanks to the twin who had pointed his existence out before. The kiss after the end of the party a year ago made things shaky between them, the two had started to hang out less, though Koutarou wasn’t sure why. They were drunk, that was it, though of course, the thought of  _ ‘For how long has he been wanting to do that?’ _ had been plastered in the back of his mind. It had been something he  _ admitted _ , so how long had it been a secret for?

  
  


Koutarou pushed aside the scene of the kiss and the questions that were running in his mind and shot him a quick text, a simple,  _ ‘On my way to the place for tomorrow’s game.’ _

And a response was almost immediate. 

_ ‘Ay, good luck. Let me know how it goes afterward. Sorry I can’t make this one.’ _

Koutarou smiled, maybe a small hint of sadness in it considering Tetsurou couldn’t make it.

_ ‘Of course.’  _ Koutarou responded with.

_ ‘Watch your step, Bokuto.’ _

Koutarou smiled, laughing softly to himself as he clicked off his phone screen and slipped the device into his pocket.

  
  


There was a ‘next time’ that Tetsurou would be there, and something in Koutarou couldn’t wait for that. He wanted to ask about the kiss before, say more, maybe have him give an opinion on what he thought.

What did _he_ think? Koutarou always looked up to the sky for an answer, and he leaned his head against the window to get a peek at the night. 

A fifth start faded into view next to the other four and the moon, and Koutarou closed his eyes. 

That was an answer, to Koutarou at least, one that he would probably be the only one to understand.

* * *

The game was long and sweaty, but nonetheless, it was one of the funniest games Koutarou had played in. A team with Atsumu, a new wing spiker by the name of Sakusa Kiyoomi, and the addition of Koutarou’s once discipline, Hinata Shouyou, Koutarou’s team played against. There were a few high school rivalries on the teams, and that somehow made it all the more fun.

Koutarou had gone through a few reporters after the game, though in all honestly, he wanted to get out of there. The attention was great, honestly, he strived off of it, but even one Bokuto Koutarou needed a break from it all.

Though at the sight of his friend at the door, he pushed it down a bit to greet him. It was nice, meeting with all the people he had met through high school. Some old  Nekoma members that had been there, some old Karasuno ones, the familiar face of Keiji who showed up in person for the match as well.

Just like always, there was always one person who stayed with him until the very end.

  
  


It was a walk down the street in the night. The air was chilly outside, but it wasn’t enough to bother the two that walked side by side in silence -- silence apart from the other’s soft whistling. They reached a bridge, and Tetsurou lifted himself on the railing, kicking his feet a little but not enough to unbalance him and set him falling back into the river. 

Koutarou didn’t jump up with him, but he looked at him.

“What?” Tetsurou asked, and Koutarou scoffed, moving to lean against the railing next to him.

“Nothing,” Koutarou said. “Nothing, I’m just glad you found the time to come out and watch, even in your stupid, fancy suit and tie.” Tetsurou frowned and looked down at his outfit. He grabbed the flaps of the jacket and stared before he let it drop with a sigh.

“I was working, technically,” Tetsurou said. “I handed Hinata a business card.”

“Do I get one?” 

“Do you want one?” Tetsurou asked as he raised an eyebrow. Koutarou started chuckling and soon, it was laughter. Tetsurou joined with him, holding onto his stomach as that stupid laugh that Koutarou loved slipped his lips. 

Then Tetsurou’s hand slipped that helped him balance and he started to tilt back.

Koutarou reached out, grabbing him by the closest thing to catch him from falling into the water below them. Tetsurou grabbed onto Koutarou's shoulder, gripping it tightly in fear of the drop. He pulled himself forward using the other, slipping off the edge of the railing to the safety of the dock. His arms wrapped around Koutarou, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “I almost just died.”

“I think you’re overexaggerating a bit.”

“No, I would’ve died.”

“Do you realize how deep the river is? People dive off of it all the time--”

“Can you let me be dramatic?” Tetsurou asked as he pulled away to look at him.

Koutarou smiled “Yeah, fine.”

“Thank you,” Tetsurou said, and he rewrapped his arms around Koutarou. “I almost died.” Koutarou laughed through his nose, and his arms moved around Tetsurou, pulling him closer. Tetsurou had a soft chuckle, but it was short, and he let out a deep sigh afterward, his chin moving to rest on Koutarou’s shoulder.

The hug was warm especially in the cold of the night. Koutarou subconsciously moved his face into Tetsurou’s neck, breathing in his scent. A faint smell of ground coffee beans lingered on his suit, probably from a long day at work he had come from before he raced to Koutarou’s game.

“Kuroo?” Koutarou asked softly, and Tetsurou pulled away enough to look at him. “How long have you been wanting to admit what you did?” Tetsurou chewed on the inside of his lip, this time the tint on his cheeks was easy to see with building lights bright enough around them -- not too bright to make them a spotlight.

“I don’t know,” Tetsurou said quietly. “Second year?”

“Second year?” Koutarou asked again, and Tetsurou sighed with a nod. For some reason, Koutarou couldn’t help but laugh. It rang through the empty air too, draining the sound of the city. 

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny, quit laughing,” Tetsurou said quickly. “You’re an asshole, Bokuto.” He put a palm to Koutarou’s chest, pushing away from him. Koutarou let him back up a little but not enough to slip his grasp. 

“Kuroo.”

“Douchebag.”

Koutarou laughed and grabbed Tetsurou’s cheeks, pulling him closer until their lips were gap apart. He watched Tetsurou’s eyes widened before he closed his, fitting his lips with the other’s. Tetsurou’s body relaxed, the palms that pushed on Koutarou’s chest stopped pushing. Tetsurou sighed in the kiss, his arms moving to wrap around Koutarou’s neck.

The owl pulled away, their lips making a soft clicking noise as he pressed their foreheads together.

“Kuroo?”

“Bokuto,” Tetsurou answered back breathlessly, his fingers twirling around some strands of hair on the back of Koutarou’s head. 

“Me too.”

“You’re annoying,” Tetsurou said as he slipped away finally. He sighed, running his hands down his face. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” Tetsurou said, and he held out his hand.

“What?” Koutarou asked.

“ _ Hold _ my hand, dumbass.”

“Alright, alright,” Koutarou said with a laugh, and he grabbed Tetsurou’s hand, giving it a light squeeze as they started walking again. “But you know what?”

Tetsurou groaned, letting out an annoyed huff. “What?”

_“Watch your step,”_ Koutarou said with a smirk as he pulled him back with a small tug. Tetsurou stopped walking and looked down at the ground that went up a level. He looked back to Koutarou with the most bored, unimpressed expression on his face.

“Whatever,” he mumbled. “That’s my line.”

Koutarou grinned. “ _ Our _ line now.” Tetsurou sighed, his fingers squeezing in Koutarou’s hand as he pulled Koutarou to continue walking, carefully watching his step.

“Sure,  _ our line _ , you loser.”

Koutarou laughed and looked up to the sky. They were scattered, but they were still there -- there were now six stars in the sky with the moon.

Six stars, each for a year he had known Tetsurou. 

He had known Tetsurou for six years.

And he finally was with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter @mattsuhana


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